Whiteout
by CrazyIndigoChild
Summary: London has never seen snow so... white. A day trip across town has turned into a sub-zero struggle to make it until morning. Munkustrap and Mistoffelees have to rely on each other to keep warm... which leaves little room for feelings to keep hidden and at bay. Slash. Death. For Delphicoracle-Cat.
1. Chapter 1

**Well I'm back and whatnot :P Been hoarding my stuff for a while now because I could. Writing a lot for Delphicoracle-Cat and having fun swapping ideas on how to make our favourite toms angsty and miserable (in a loving way, of course)**

**This story is finished and over 20-something pages long (kinda long for a oneshot, methinks) and it took me forEVER to write because I like to procrastinate and overindulge my detail-obsessed self :P Plus I've been keeping busy at University now so I have an excuse to slack ;)**

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"...Shut up! There isn't a single queen in all of London who wouldn't roll over for a shot with the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees now. Maybe my fame is rubbing off on you; there are a lot of celebrities who have nothing going for them but hot-shot friends, you know."

Shuffling awkwardly through the snow beside him, Mistoffelees bowed his head with an impish grin. "I doubt that, Tug, but thanks anyway. Besides, I'm not really looking for a queen right now." Nearly tripping over a crater of frozen snow, the younger tux huffed when his paw caught a patch of ice and stumbled face first into a mound of powder.

The Rum Tum Tugger chuckled and, a little too pointedly, replied, "Don't I know it." Mistoffelees shot him a seething glare to which his comrade simply winked and turned to their audience: a peeved looking tabby with enough road salt coating his fur to season a fully grown cow.

Walking just ahead of them for the past half hour (behind them for an hour before that), Munkustrap sighed at the slow progress they'd been making. If you could call it progress. He caught the coon's eye and frowned, glancing worriedly up at the darkening sky. Was London expecting snow?

"I think this is far enough, Tugger." The Coon, who so dutifully swatted the snow from his friend's fur, nodded before a rascally side glance threatened to rein him out right where he stood. "You trying to get rid of me already, Munk?"

Panting softly, Mistoffelees spoke, "Aren't we close enough to your home now, anyway? Surely those alley cats won't have the nerve to travel this far." He made to sit back onto his haunches but sprung back up with a displeased grimace at the icy slush pooling around their paws. "Especially not in these conditions."

The flirt's playful grin faltered a moment, blinking slowly a couple times before nonchalantly running his claws through his mane. "Would you travel out here after me if I had shagged Victoria?"

"Okay!" Mistoffelees barked, shuddering visibly at the thought. "You need to stop going after queens with really temperamental family, Tug. I'll help you this once, but you seriously need help!"

"You have a problem," Munkustrap hissed.

Tugger shrugged, chuckling at his comrades' shock. "Hey, I'm only picking up your slack! There are too many needy honeys out there since you two unappreciative, barmy prudes refuse to get off your lazy arses!" With a good-natured nudge to his brother's flank, he pushed past the two to lead the troupe anew.

Sooner or later the trio found themselves closing in on the decomposed brick dwelling Tugger's humans had deemed 'home' with the hopes of completing countless renovations that never started. They leaped over the garden wall and, with some hesitation, into a whiteout of a yard. The snow was so deep it swallowed Munkustrap and Tugger whole without a second thought; Mistoffelees, however, managed to land on all fours (as cats tend to do) on the thin crest of the snow bank, letting out an great sigh of relief and a smug smile as the others were nowhere to be seen.

Don't worry! The Rum Tum Tugger has never failed to let his presence be known, so he wasn't lost for long. "Mistoffelees!" Tugger shrieked dramatically. "You cheating git, get your damned hide over here and help me up!"

The tux gingerly padded over to one of the craters, each step carefully tested with a nervous, glittering paw before he set his weight down for another. "I see you," he growled with a mischievous purr at the snow-coated tom clawing frantically at the crumbling edges of the caving hole.

Tail in a flutter, he lowered himself until the drifting snow glimpsed past his belly with a soft hush. In the hole a few feet beside him, the other tom grunted and huffed as he thrashed about, trying desperately to resurface.

Mistoffelees' paws tapped the ground gently, his muscles coiling to leap, his tail swishing behind him in anticipation. Bursting forth, he let out a triumphant yell as he ambushed his prey, paws making contact against Tugger's thick chest and slamming him into the snow below. The almost unrecognizable tom hollered sharply and, in the blink of an eye, shoved the tangled duo forward until Mistoffelees found himself pinned in a cloudy mist of upturned snow.

It was then, but perhaps a little too late to really matter at this point, that he realized he'd jumped the wrong brother. In a glorious battle in which he had no chance in hell of winning, Mistoffelees squirmed against the thick body straddling his waist, his heart nearly knocking his rib out his fur. "It- it's just me! Munk, it's just me!" he cried out.

Just then everything froze until there was nothing but the heavy breathing and panting between them upsetting the settling snow. Blinking up at the mostly white tabby, Mistoffelees shivered beneath him, wide eyed until the glint of teeth from Munkustrap's goofy grin was made out of the indistinct snow sculptures that clung to the fur on his face.

"I know," he chuckled finally, "I heard you coming from a mile off. No wonder you're so thin, the rats are practically being given a formal announcement!"

Beneath the laughing tom, the tux let out a huge sigh."Bastet, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

At that the bigger tom made a show of pulling a sickeningly sad face for the tux, cooing ironically as he asked, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Mistoffelees sniffed indignantly up at him. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank yo- EVERLASTING!" Without warning (and most certainly without permission) Munkustrap bent low and ran a sloppy, wet tongue over the space between his eyes and nose. "That's... get off of me!" With a snort of laughter Mistoffelees gently bat at the thick clumps of snow clotting the tabby's whiskers.

"Not the first time someone's told you that." The two toms glanced up from their horseplay to find the Rum Tum Tugger sprawled lazily atop the garden wall, his tail flicking off the last of the snow and a smug look on his face. His grin widened at the comical sight of the tux fanatically rubbing at his forehead, trying to rearrange the wayward-sticking fur. "Welcome to the brotherhood, Misty."

As midday turned to late afternoon, Munkustrap grew more and more agitated the longer Tugger insisted on keeping them; even Mistoffelees started picking up on his concern and every now and then watched Munkustrap peer up at the sky with growing concern from his place by the groaning, sputtering radiator. Eventually Tugger gave up trying to hold a conversation and released his guests with a gentle nuzzle out the back door.

When Mistoffelees had started ahead, awaiting Munkustrap on the garden wall, Tugger pulled the tabby aside. "Keep an eye on him, will you? It's his first winter outside, and I'm afraid he's not..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Not quite..."

Munkustrap understood what Tugger was trying to get at: Mistoffelees was much too thin. Whereas the strays made note to put on some extra weight in the fall in anticipation for the cold, Mistoffelees hadn't gained an ounce of rich, insulating fat. Coupled with his short coat, he wasn't exactly asking for a very easy winter. "... not quite _ready_ yet."

The tabby nodded, tossing a quick glance at the slim figure watching them patiently by the back corner of the lot. "Don't worry, I'll keep close tabs on him."

"I know you will." Nodding, Tugger pulled him into a strong hug that made the tabby blush at the thought of the tiny magician watching from his perch. Before they parted, the Coon leaned in close and said in the most serious of tones, "Now stop procrastinating and do something, you barmy twit!"

The other let out a loud, nervous chortle and shoved the younger tom off of him. "Is that your new word now?" His grin stretching clear across his face, Tugger shrugged and, with a noticeable shiver, turned to force his fluffy pelt through the tiny cat door.

It took a moment before he too realized the unusually cold weather; hopefully they'd reach the junkyard before either of them caught a chill.

Mistoffelees was no longer sitting by the time the tabby had finally joined him high over the alley that ran behind the residential lots. In another yard Munkustrap caught sight of a thin, scraggly-furred queen dragging her young one by one from a fine looking pile of logs to the glass patio door of a dark, lifeless house. She'd scratch and wail pathetically at the glass, pace the length of the deck, then return to the log shelter and bring forth another kitten to add to the others waiting in the snow. They watched helplessly as this continued indefinitely.

"She had more," Mistoffelees noted softly. He sniffed the air delicately and batted at his ear a moment. "Two of them... She took them away so the others wouldn't see." Munkustrap followed the tux's gaze to the side of the porch where two tiny bodies had been dropped haphazardly into the snow below. With a shaky sigh Mistoffelees turned to him. "Is there anything we can do? M... maybe we could bring her back with us?"

He hated to let his friend down so cruelly, but he knew there was no way they'd all make the trek. Munkustrap sighed, "No, Mistoffelees, there's nothing we can do for them. They'll have a better chance of making it they just stick nearby. But we really should get going." Gingerly he stood and nudged the tux down the alley, passing the log home as the sickly queen dragged out the last of her kits.

Unbeknownst to both of them the entire family would be completely gone before dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapata two, my lovelies! Sorry I had to kill Ms. Mommy and her bebes. DontBeAZombie was telling me how it wasn't romantic, but I had to disagree because I feel it brings us all together as a fanbase :") and there be nothing more romantic than gathering in the sadness of dead kittens.**

**Enjoy!**

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Tugger's home was probably one of the farthest from the junkyard, which made his occasionally overprotective brother more than a little nervous considering how many opportunities he had to get himself killed. Revisiting the mucky streets and intersections by which they came, Munkustrap could easily come up with several more reasons why he hated the family's choice in locale.

Snow pelted him from every direction, matting his fur into useless clumps where the wind burrowed its way under and left more clusters of wet snow. Every now and again he'd have to stop and give his pelt a good shake before the weight of it all dragged him down into the slushy mess on the ground. Many times he'd glanced back to find the tux, nearly invisible now, trying pathetically to do the same.

"Do you want to stop?" Munkustrap yelled once Mistoffelees had finished batting the snow out of his whiskers and eyelashes. He regarded the bigger tom curiously and cocked his head to the side. Stepping in closer, Munkustrap leaned down to gently press his nose against the tip of his ear. "Should we stop and find shelter?"

Mistoffelees perked at the suggestion, clearly not opposed to the idea, but a quick glance around the street proved the offer to futile. "There's nowhere to stop, Munk... Let's just keep going."

So they continued slowly pushing against the wind and snow for another few blocks until the tabby stopped to stare up at a lone lamppost, his tail limp and shoulders slumped, disheartened. "W...w-what's wrong?"

Mistoffelees watched as he inspected the road, looking as far each way as the blizzard allowed before glancing back up at the lamppost. On it were two metal plates half covered in snow, both of which had semi-obscured writing that Mistoffelees couldn't make out if he tried. "This way," the tabby finally said, nodding towards a street to their right. "It's... it's faster. How are you?"

"F-fine," the tux coughed, trying to suppress violent tremors in his shoulders. "Lead the way."

From there the storm only blew stronger as evening settled, making the dark streets impossible to navigate. Mistoffelees eventually found himself stumbling off the sidewalk with every gust of wind; one especially strong blast completely swept the small tux off his feet and sent him tumbling into a stack of soggy boxes and glass bottles. They'd been inconveniently set out on the side of the walk in front of a delicately lit home with silly toy reindeer on the lawn.

His legs sore and stiff from the cold, it took quite a bit to get even shaky paws under him to stand. Before he could think about the other tom Munkustrap was by his side gently pulling him to his feet; the two huddled close and braced against another strong gust of wind.

Wrapping his arms protectively around the tux's shoulders, Munkustrap held the shivering tom a moment. If he could get them further into town there would be ways to find shelter. "Stay close to me, we'll find some covering soon."

As they braved another round of windy assault Munkustrap took care to keep Mistoffelees tucked safely into his side. If he couldn't keep him warm, then the least he could do was keep him from flying off across the city. Soon the faint orange glow of city lampposts and shop signs lit up the major streets. With renewed spirits, the two quickly scurried over and dove under the nearest parked car they could find.

"Y-you didn't h-ha-ve to do that," Mistoffelees stammered, frowning at the thick blanket of ice and snow covering the entire left side of Munkustrap's body; the tabby shrugged with a warm smile and set to pulling out the knots from his long coat.

Instead of using his claws to scratch at the snow, Munkustrap noticed with a soft blush, Mistoffelees broke up the debris by gnawing and licking in a way that chased off the chill in more ways than he could imagine. Of course not wanting to seem rude or unappreciative Munkustrap graciously accepted his well-meaning, completely non-suggestive help and took the opportunity to secretly revel in their closeness.

Once they'd uncovered the dark and clumped wet stripes of his fur, the two huddled close in the small space under the car's undercarriage. Close as they pressed their bodies together the draft running through the tight space between the ground, car, and curb created a bitter wind tunnel that was much worse than walking out on the street.

Tiny eyes peered out behind the tires, searching for an open shop door or a heating vent they could worm into until the cold passed. The next best thing was a dark, narrow alley sandwiched between a bakery and the local cigar shop; it certainly wasn't a first choice, but it looked much less windy than where they were now.

Following Munkustrap's lead, Mistoffelees crept alongside of him to poke their head out from under the car. Only a few cars were left wandering the street; their headlights creeping along through the thinning curtain of snow. "Wait for this one to go by, then we should be..." Somewhere along the street a stuttering engine roared to life. "...Should be safe to cross." Teeth clattering loudly, Mistoffelees nodded and trained on the slow-moving vehicle, ready to bolt across the street to the safety of the alley the first chance he got.

As soon as the metal monster squared up to them, Munkustrap and Mistoffelees had already crawled out of their hiding place and began inching towards the other side. They had barely made it out halfway when Munkustrap first heard the sharp, terrifying shriek of failing car breaks. Light so bright he'd thought they were already halfway to Heavyside washed out the entire street.

Without another thought Munkustrap leaned forward to catch Mistoffelees by the scruff of the neck and yanked him back towards the parked car. The tux, who had more sense than he and had launch himself out of the way, flailed wickedly when his neck was caught mid-flight and slung back.

In a whirl of squealing tires, blinding light, and wild limbs, Mistoffelees was ragdoll limp in Munkustrap's grip; everything passing him in a blur until the world stopped, slamming hard against the icy ground and then the curb with a loud _crack!_

Mistoffelees cried out when the pain finally hit him with mind-numbing strength. He wasn't entirely sure what was hurting yet but as he slowly tried to push himself upright he had the sickening feeling he would soon find out. In the very near distance the tires squealed on, dragging the useless corpse that made up the rest of the car with them.

"Bast, are you alright!?" Out of some dark corner Munkustrap picked himself up and slowly limped over to inspect the abused tom.

Mistoffelees again tried to push himself up onto his elbows but fell back heavily against the hard-packed snow. "Something's wrong. I… I don't know what, but it really hurts!"

Concern and a hint of guilt flitted across the tabby's face before he composed himself with an uneasy cough. "Here, let me see. Where does it hurt?" With delicate paws he examined Mistoffelees from top to bottom, frowning at the irregular jut in the tux's shoulder and hissing at the sight of his oddly angled foot. "I think you might have dislocated your shoulder; I'll have to put it back in place."

"What?!" Mistoffelees gasped, "How did I…? You're going to put it back? How?"

To answer his question, the tabby shifted him over onto his back. Mindful of his own injuries- a couple bruised ribs and some small cuts here and there- he settled himself beside the younger tom and gently settled his foot against the hollow of his underarm. "I'm going to pull it back in. I need you to take a deep breath and try not to move." Mistoffelees stared, not entirely sure if he should take the tabby seriously or not.

He laughed. "I'm not letting you yank at my arm! What if I just left it, we can get it fixed when we get back to the junkyard?"

"You're not going to get very far, I can promise you that much."

The silence was awkward as Mistoffelees considered his options. "Fine. I suppose you- Ow! Munk, I didn't!-" Mistoffelees hissed and spat while Munkustrap gently pulled at his deformed arm, slowly pulling harder until the arm gave with a resounding _pop_ as it jumped back into its proper place.

Together they shared a sigh of relief and, with Munkustrap still holding onto his paw and wrist, the tux gently pushed himself up to sit. Almost immediately he saw the sore sight of his foot and swallowed hard. "I don't suppose you could pop that back in?" his voice was shaky and thin, as well it should be; they were a long ways from the junkyard, and without a foot how was Mistoffelees supposed to make it back before he froze to death? Sadly Munkustrap shook his head no. "What do we do, Munk?"

Munkustrap was at a loss. They were much too far to chance walking now. If the temperature outside was to stabilize, they would catch hypothermia at best; if not then Munkustrap would have to consider leaving Mistoffelees behind and backtrack to Tugger's if he wanted any chance at making it himself until morning

He mentally smacked himself for even considering leaving Mistoffelees out there to die: that was definitely not an option. "I suppose we should start looking for that shelter now." A quick check found Mistoffelees' ankle to be thankfully unbroken, though it was sprained pretty badly and in no shape to be hitting the pavement anytime soon.

With nowhere to go they had to settle with revisiting their alleyway hideout. This time Munkustrap watched the road until the street had been more or less deserted before letting the tux pull himself out from under the car. "It stopped snowing," Mistoffelees noted, holding his paw out to the wind.

Munkustrap gently grabbed his paw and pulled him to his feet, lowering the tux's body against his before checking the road again. "It's much too cold for snow now." Half dangling from Munkustrap's side, Mistoffelees warily let himself be led across the road, luckily not a car in sight until long after they slumped into the shadows.

The wind had been blocked by the tall stack of apartment buildings and shops so the cold wasn't nearly as bitter. Mistoffelees let out a big sigh of relief, "At least I can feel myself think here!" he chuckled nervously, his eyes dashing in paranoia from dark corner to shady outline every few milliseconds.

Sticking inexorably fused to Munkustrap's side, he followed the tabby deeper into the ominous corridor until he stopped with a satisfied sound and a confident nod. "This should do nicely… but there doesn't really seem like there's much here to use as shelter."

Mistoffelees nodded towards a leaky, old dumpster and shuddered. "We could use that as a…" He saw the unveiled disgust on his friend's face as he considered this option as well, "… never mind then."

With nothing else at their disposal the two were at a loss. Surely they could chance the cold without the harshest of shelters, but at this point the more they had going for them the better their chances of survival. The taller of the two jumped slightly, ushering the duo to the nearby wall. "I have an idea! Wait here, I won't be long," Munkustrap enthused with a smile bright enough to appease the tux's worries while he left him sitting against the cold cobble brick to disappear out the alley and down the street.

As there was no snow and very little wind to slow him down, Munkustrap was able to run back up the street they'd travelled in no time at all. In fact, he was barely out of breath by the time he'd reached the deflated snow bank where Mistoffelees had fallen. The tabby sniffed and circled the arrangement of recyclables and garbage until finally beginning the task of picking the pile of folded cardboard boxes apart.

Thank the humans and their habit of using boxes five sizes too big to package their trinkets! Munkustrap had seen the Christmas hampers families would buy when the stores were just too hectic to chance with the human kits; a box big enough to fit four fair-sized Jellicles fixed a family of four with a silly little turkey, a couple boxes of stuffing, and a can of cranberry sauce which could also be swapped for a baggie of instant potatoes. As ridiculous as it was, Munkustrap couldn't contain the feeling of giddy accomplishment as he dragged the reduced box by a cheesy plastic reindeer.

He'd been a block if not more away when his ears caught the gentle whimper up ahead and his body went rigid. Slowly releasing their vice on him, his muscles slowly relaxed and he was bending over to pick up the corner that'd fallen out of his mouth when an adrenaline-pumping, drawn out scream, the owner of which undoubtedly an older queen, echoed out from a nearby stairwell.

Like a cave its mouth was a stone arch that led down a short strut to the stairs. The voice or, now, _voices_ were coming from the other end of the dim tunnel. Faster than his fear could stop him, Munkustrap bolted up the story and a half of steps, stopping at a sharp 90 degree turn to the right where two light-coloured cats rolled and thrashed upon a thin plastic doormat. One of them, the queen he'd heard before, let out another, less distressing cry. This one of pleasure than of pain.

Unsure of what exactly he'd stumbled upon, Munkustrap cleared his throat as obnoxiously as propriety allowed. "Erm… Excuse me?" To his horror, the two stopped mid-coitus and glared at him, still connected down below. "I-I apologize for…_ interrupting_, but I couldn't help but notice your—ahem—screaming." They blinked slowly, the slim tom mounted on the thicker queen was the first to break the awkward staring contest with a wicked grin; the queen, on the other hand, did not look at all humoured. "But I see everything's alright, so I'll just leave now—"

"S'your name, pal?" the tom wanted to know.

Not impervious to the sights and smells of sex (for he is a tom with needs and desires), Munkustrap struggled to keep his voice and eyes leveled and away from the enraptured couple. "M-my name is Munkustrap."

It was the queen's turn to speak up, her glowing yellow eyes finished in their thorough inspection of him from ear to tail-tip. "Have you mated before, Munkustrap? You seem rather flustered, or perhaps you're hoping to join us?" With a low, seductive purr she pointedly licked her lips while her stare slowly trailed over his body, lingering here and there to make her intentions crystal clear.

A thick, noticeable blush bled through the thick, dark colourings of his coat, and his body grew hot with embarrassment. "What?! No! I was just making sure you—"

"Calm down, stripes!" the tom guffawed, each peal of laughter shaking his body where his partner sighed and rolled forlornly against him. A thick, musty scent gave the air a comforting and alluring feel that toyed with the formal tom's thinking; if he wasn't careful he could soon become quite… _vulnerable_. When he'd finished laughing, the male grew quite glib when he spoke. "She's sayin' you can get warm with us, if you need ta. 'When the night gets chilly, us cats get silly' as we like to say, but you've never heard of that since you're not a stray. No cat without ribs you can knock a tune offa is a street cat."

"Shut up, Jyessup, you're scaring him away," the she-cat hissed, running a tantalizing tongue across her upper lip. "If you're looking for a little heat until morning, we've got plenty here to share... Munkustrap." She'd pronounced every. Single. Syllable. Beautifully. But Munkustrap's softening mind wandered from the lovely feline in front of him to a more potent, lusty specimen he silently worshipped for their claim on his simple heart. Once, and only once, had he heard his name used so much sweeter and its effects over a hundred times stronger, sadly in the ignorance of his dear's kittenish teasing.

Everlasting, what was he doing here thinking about sex?! Mistoffelees was still waiting for him to get back!

She smiled with smug contentment when the indecisive tom bit his lip, yearning shining bright in his semi-reflective eyes. Mindful of the enthralling chemicals coating the air, he drew in a slow, careful breath. "I… I can't. There's somewhere I need to be right now."

Not giving the enticing pair a chance to draw him back in, he spun on his heel and flew down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. Munkustrap's foot caught the cardboard lip and nearly sent him crashing to the ground as he burst out of the mouth of the stone passage. To his horror the temperature had dropped, breathing possibility into his last-resort plan to abandon the tux for the rickety clatterings of Tugger's radiator.


	3. Chapter 3

_Who's ready for round 3! I've realized that the way the chapters are slipt up can be a little jarring, but please keep in mind that this was a oneshot when I wrote it._

_I'd like to thank Emily-Doreen-Atkinson-xx for her wonderful, encouraging reviews :D It gives me the happy fangirl-jitters! Actually, I'd like to thank **everyone**who's left a review (and all those lovely people who will from now on ;P); I seriously read every review at least 5 times. _

_Well, enough about not-Misto, let's get back to the story shall we?_

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Nothing in the world could distract the tabby who so determinedly marched back to the alley. Another pang of guilt plucked at his chest when he finally found the tiny tom shivering in an even tinier ball beneath the vile dumpster, having limped or dragged himself across the alley to chance the questionable juices staining the pavement for what warmth he could find.

Munkustrap hastily put the box together before summoning Mistoffelees from his slimy haven, he even went so far as to dig up some bubble wrap from Cat knows where to pad the bottom of the box for Mistoffelees' injured foot.

When he finally crept over to the black mound of fur, he could hear the shallow, stuttered breath of a hypothermia-riddled cat on his way to the big kitty litter in the sky. He almost wanted to cry for Mistoffelees' sake, but instead hooked his arm around the trembling tux and gently pulled him out.

"I... I c-can't feel m-my-my foot," he complained as they stumbled over to the box.

"I know," the other tom replied, peeling back the flaps of cardboard to set Mistoffelees down on the semi-punctured bubble wrap. "Let's just try to get you warmed up for now."

With the side of the box folded shut there wasn't much light to see; even with their innate ability to see in the dark, Munkustrap and Mistoffelees successfully managed to fulfill most awkward clichés for darkness and awkward accidental-groping by the time they'd managed settle in, the tux crushed up against the others' chest and stomach for warmth.

Over Mistoffelees' head, Munkustrap could see (well, as well as anyone who can't see can see) his swollen ankle, limp and useless on the few bubbles still left in the wrapping. He took a careful minute to shift the small frame against him so he could get a closer look. With the lightest of fingers, Munkustrap had barely put enough pressure for the sleeping tom to even feel him poking and prodding, yet the moment skin made contact Mistoffelees' eyes snapped open with a start. "What are you doing?"

Munkustrap jerked away with a start. "I… I was trying to check your ankle without waking you. How does it feel now?"

Gently, the tux lifted his leg to prod the air with his inflated foot; Mistoffelees gave it a good turn or two, and tapped the bottom of the box with his toes. Grimacing, he sighed, "It's quite a bit sore, but I think I can manage," and slumped against his oversized pillow, briefly snuggling closer.

A rush of heat fluttered about Munkustrap's stomach; the impossibly small space between them shrunk to nearly nothing. As much as he longed to hold him like one would their lover, he simply couldn't. It wasn't that he was too shy to try, he just knew that miserable cats didn't quite care to be petted and caressed while they froze to death in a lousy cardboard box. Call him crazy, but he didn't find the time called for a dramatic, last-ditch profession of love.

Caught in his withdrawn musings the tabby failed to notice Mistoffelees' still shaky fingers make their way around his shoulder to the scrape on his back. It stung something fierce when Mistoffeless peeled his blood-sticky wound from the cardboard to take a closer look. "How are _you_ feeling?"

"It… it's fine." Mistoffelees dismissed him with a sigh and pulled Munkustrap closer so he could get his arms around the tabby's shoulders.

The wound ignited as the young tux pressed his fingers deep into the gash. Munkustrap countered the urge to throw the tom off of him by pressing himself harder against Mistoffelees, paws entangling the fur on his back as he spat. "You're alright," Mistoffelees soothed, feeling the tension under his crackling fingers ease as the cut mended shut.

When Munkustrap was finally allowed to reach back and run his paw over the smooth skin, his eyes widened. "I've not really had much practice in healing, but I figured it would be better than nothing."

"Sorry I can't return the favor," Munkustrap said. "Everlasting knows you need it more than I do right now. I've no magic myself."

Mistoffelees laughed and pulled away to beam up at him with a wide, quirky grin. "That's not true, I hear," he said. Munkustrap didn't reply, instead he eyed him suspiciously; but the tux only chuckled and back onto his bottom to plunk himself down near the tabby's feet. "Rumour has it you've got a magic touch that would put me to shame."

Immediately Munkustrap thought of Tugger: who else would go out of their way to spread the word of _anyone's_ 'magic touch' for its silly double meaning. Really the tabby had never given anyone a massage before. But Mistoffelees didn't have to know that…

"Well, I wouldn't want there to be any competition between us."

"Oh please!" Mistoffelees chortled. He happily watched as the tabby finally relented and grasped the base of his foot and ankle, giving them a couple hard squeezes before working away the dull ache with seemingly practiced fingers. Contented, Mistoffelees sighed and leaned back on his elbows with a low purr. "I don't care how phenomenal your massages are; you wouldn't stand a chance at gaining the kittens' attention. Plus you'd have to deal with Tugger and his ego, so I'm not worried."

Without warning the box shifted and cowered under the force of a gust of wind that managed to find its way into the sheltered alley. Neither tom had the chance to check the flimsy cardboard door before the flaps burst in and blinded them with snow.

Sputtering and stumbling, Munkustrap managed to climb over Mistoffelees in time to close the box before they were both buried.

From what he could see in the dim light, Mistoffelees took one look at their sprawled, tangled limbs and, to Munkustrap's surprise, laughed. "Speaking of the narcissistic devil, Tugger sure picked a swell day to outrun his friends!"

Munkustrap remained quiet, leaving the silence to settle heavily between them. Immediately the tux was alarmed and scooted closer to peer up into the Jellicle Protector's face. "That-that's what's going on, right? Tugger needed our help—to get away from those toms."

With nowhere to hide, other tom shoved his chin into his chest. Even the sound he made when he swallowed sounded guilty—Everlasting, he was weak! Mistoffelees would not have it and brought his face even lower to catch the other's gaze. "…Right?"

With a slow, tenuous breath he explained, "Tugger was never in trouble; he made up that story so he'd have a reason to bring you out to his human's home."

"He wh…? What an a—"

"He did it because he was helping me."

It took a moment for the tux to catch on to what he was saying. There were just so many impossibilities he could fit into one conversation. He started off slow and tried not to sound too incredulous. "_He_ was helping _you_? And you had him lie… lie to _me_?" It was easy enough to believe him with his weak, pathetic nod- there was no questioning it. But what Mistoffelees couldn't—or perhaps wouldn't—understand was why.

So he asked. "Why would you do that? And why trick me?! He—I thought someone was trying to kill my best friend! We—what—was it a test o-or a prank? A bet, even?" Munkustrap shook his head. It wasn't.

Mistoffelees wasn't satisfied, however, and didn't seem too have much nerve left to spare. "Tell me!" he demanded with a jab to the chest. His voice grew sad, his body slumped on itself with a sudden hopelessness that also seemed too complex to want to understand.

"Tell me why I'm here," he pleaded. "Munk, tell me why I'm lying in a soggy box in the middle of Bastet knows where freezing my tail off. The least you can do is give me that much."

"I…" Munkustrap sighed. "I never meant for you to get hurt, that's the very last thing I could possibly want! Well it's all the same now anyway; I doubt I'll have another chance to tell you since you'll want nothing to do with me after tonight..."

Mistoffelees snarled. Where before it was helplessly annoying, he was thankful for the darkness between them; he didn't want to see the other tom and he certainly didn't want Munkustrap to see him. In this light, he could pass off the quick swipes at his eyes for wiping his running nose. "Tell me what, that you're _sorry_? I really don't want to hear it, Munk. If you're really sorry then you'll get me home. Alive."

"No, not that—but I am really, truly sorry, you have no idea." Chancing a wicked blow to the head, and possibly one to his pride, he trailed his fingers down Mistoffelees' arm to ever-so-lightly clasp the tux's paw between his. With a breath for courage he leaned in close until he could feel the wavering flutter of the tuxed tom's breath on his face and see the glaze coating his eyes. "I asked Tugger to say those things to you because I wanted… I wanted to have an afternoon to talk with you. We were supposed to leave earlier and on the way home, when it was just you and me, I was supposed to tell you…" his nerve caved and his voice trailed off into a timid mumble.

Mistoffelees opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Glancing down at their clasped paws, he took a careful breath to speak, but Munkustrap cut him off with a quick "I was supposed to tell you how I feel."

The tux started at that. _Munkustrap_ and _feelings_ rarely ever shared space in the same room, let alone the same sentence; he'd once had the tom retreated out of a conversation at an offhand mention of his (then) crush on the rough-and-tumble Electra. So he felt little shame in the plainly incredulous look he sported. "...How you feel." At Munkustrap's almost shameful nod, he waited until he was sure he'd have to press the tabby for more. "How _do_ you feel?"

Having bit his lip, nursed it with his dried tongue, and repeated a few times, Munkustrap looked Mistoffelees dead in the eye and simpered, "I think I'm in love with you."

It looked as though he'd slapped the poor cat; Mistoffelees' whole body went rigid to the point where he could let go of the tux's paw and it wouldn't fall to his lap, it would just hover there. It was even questionable whether or not he was breathing, he was so still. At least he wasn't angry anymore. "Everlasting, could you say something?"

Seemingly still in shock, Mistoffelees blinked a couple of times. He eventually saw the growing desperation on the poor tabby's face and reassured him with a kind smile. "You had to drag me across London to tell me?"

Not exactly the reply he was looking for, but the kittenish, lopsided grin Mistoffelees had reassured him he wasn't going to get a dreadful box to the head at the very least. His own smile began to sprout despite the knots in his stomach. "I thought it would be romantic."

Mistoffelees laughed, a cheery sound that brought sensation back to the tips of Munkustrap's fingers. "Oh, Munk." It was almost painful, the way he coquettishly tilted his head and heaved a dramatic sigh as though he'd guessed as much from the predictable tabby. In the darkness his socked paw found its way around the back of Munkustrap's head, pressing into the damp fur as he scooted closer, mindful of his achy ankle.

Faces millimetres apart, lips barely touching, it seemed, was the perfect time to let his prey off the hook; "I _am _in love with you."

His jaw nearly popped out of place! "You are?! W-with _me_?" Of course him, but Munkustrap had to make sure either way. For all he knew the tux could have meant a rather lucky bastard named You.

Munkustrap could feel the smile and the stuttered breath of Mistoffelees' silent laughter tickle the sensitive skin of his lips, which made them itch for contact. There was no need for him to waste time dwelling about it as the magician seemingly read his thoughts and was closing in on him.

Munkustrap couldn't restrain himself and in one move he'd hungrily looped his arm around the tux's waist and crushed his lips to Mistoffelees'. He needn't coax the younger tom for the other's pucker gladly parted to welcome his tongue to caress and explore.

Feelings of the tux's thin, delicate lips mashed against his and slight fingers skittering and sliding across goose-fleshed fur was unbelievable! It was driving him insane how badly he wanted to throw Mistoffelees onto the bubble wrap and ravish him until morning. As fortune is a fickle shrew, there was barely enough time to _begin_ to fully appreciate the feeling before a slap of arctic air had Mistoffelees recoiling in shock. His mouth now free, Munkustrap cursed beneath his breath and reached for the cardboard flaps once again.

Both toms spotted the two figures crowding the entrance at the same time. All four creatures staring at the new pairs, there was a long beat where no one moved, silently sizing up the opposing duo.

One of the shadows leaned in to get a closer look at the bigger of the two toms. "Oh hey! Looka who we found, Cleo. Its what's-his-face from earlier."

"Munkustrap," the other figure corrected, "And... his friend?"

Jyessup jutted his nose at the small tom still in Munkustrap's arms. Already he'd started shivering and began pressing in closer for warmth. "A little too friendly for jus' friends ifya ask me. Heh, maybe you scared him off with your-"

"Shut up!" she snapped, kicking a cloud of snow into the box.

Munkustrap let the stinking tom get a good sniff at Mistoffelees, who'd been politely waiting for the chore to be done with, before he nudged the intruder away. "If you don't mind, we're trying to stay warm and you're making it rather difficult."

The mysterious duo piqued at the thought of warmth, their muscles cramped desperately to shed the chill. "We can help you with that, Munksie, you know we're good for it," Cleo said. "Even your little friend can join. What's your name, kit?"

Mistoffelees gritted his teeth at the condescending tone: he wasn't a kitten. However, something in the way the whole scene was playing out made him realize that now wasn't the time to be making enemies, so he said in the most kittenish voice he could muster, "My name's Misto, missus." They both smiled down at him, he could see the whites of their teeth reflecting the sheen of the snow. He shuddered.

Unlike his partner, Jyessup couldn't be any less interested in finding his next shag; instead of eyeing up the plain-looking tux, he trained his gaze on the setup the two had managed to score. "Don't suppose you wanna 'nother roomie or two in there? We won't do nothin' ifya don't wanta, I swear."

"We're not interested," Munkustrap warned, reaching for the flap that lay bent by Jyessup's paw.

Munkustrap heard the shrill howl before Jyessup had lunged for him, but he couldn't shove Mistoffelees out of the way before the impact had taken all three toms to the ground.

The box exploded with howls, shrieks, and claws. With the darkness on top of the chaos it would be a miracle if neither Jellicle had been mistaken for the intruder and taken some abuse in blind fury.

Jyessup, or so he thought, was on top of him, clawing through the air looking for a flash of neck to bite into. Pinned against the bubble wrap, Munkustrap had only a few seconds to throw the stray off of him before he completely gained the upper hand. He bucked and thrashed wildly, knocking into Mistoffelees more than a couple times by the sound of it. Gasping for breath, he strained to call for his friend to run; barely a sound squeaked past him and the whole world flipped upside down as their weight slammed the box onto its back.

Teeth bared, Jyessup saw his chance and charged with a victorious gnarl. Their heads slammed together when he'd missed his mark; another voice cried out in pain. Dazed, Munkustrap watched the scraggly stray retreat, jumping back to the far wall, the opening of the box revealing the partially obscured sky and Cleo's expectant face watching down on the match. "Get him, Jyessup!" she cheered. "Don't make me save you from a kit, damn it!"

Munkustrap dully followed her gaze to the two in the corner. There was no sign of Mistoffelees anywhere in the mess of limbs and fur until he burst from the chaos and bound soundlessly to his feet. He looked a fright all covered in blood and snow, but so far he seemed to be holding his own against Jyessup, who was at least double the tux's weight alone.

"Leave us alone!" Mistoffelees shouted, having given up the kittenish voice for a deeper, more threatening tone. Cleo scrambled up the trash beside the lip of the box to peer down at them, her light, creamy fur on-end as Jyessup coiled for another jump at the tux.

He thought a moment before pouncing, giving Mistoffelees enough time to steal a glance at the tabby behind him. With bloodied spittle, Jyessup spattered the ground before his opponent's feet; "Why don' we just call it even? Yous two leave me an Cleo here with your box an' head back home: we won't hurt ya no more. How about that?"

Mistoffelees snorted and even chanced a laugh at the others' expense; Munkustrap knew that the tux, much like the other Jellicle toms, became very cocksure once they'd gained vantage in a fight. While Munkustrap himself wasn't ready to give up what little shelter they'd drudged up, he was less eager to find out what Jyessup was prepared to do when he became even more desperate. "No-"

"Okay!" Munkustrap said. "You can have the box, it's yours. Just let us leave."

And so they did. Once Munkustrap had relinquished the title of the box to Jyessup and Cleo, the strays took no time in making it clear that he and Mistoffelees were no longer welcome. Heck, they barely let Mistoffelees find his own way out of the container; in one harsh swoop Jyessup took him by the scruff and flung him over the wall to land where he may on the hard-packed snow. Though it hadn't appeared as though the stray was considering doing the same to the tabby, Munkustrap was bounding after Mistoffelees before Jyessup had half a mind to give it a try. The cold could do strange things to a cat.

The box had been turned back on its side and the bubble wrap reset on the floor, like it had been before. Before turning in, Cleo sighed a breathy "Farewell, Munkustrap!" and was no later enveloped in the shelter he and Mistoffelees had shared.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm back! And it looks as though I might actually finish posting this story :D It's about damn time, I know! Now let us all enjoy the angst!

* * *

"Brilliant! Just bloody fantastic!" Something tin and heavy crashed near the mouth of the alley where the tux had limped off to. With a loud _pop _the whole place was fogged with snow and ice; several curses and explosions later the entire lane looked fresh and white like a lovely Christmas card a runaway would send home to his parents. Finally fed up, Mistoffelees collapsed in the snow with a vexed huff, spent. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Proceeding with caution, Munkustrap crept up to the disheartened tom. With some of the light from the street he could spot the healthy collection of cuts that marked the fluffy white fur of his limbs, face, and chest, many of which accompanied bruises that were starting to show even in the dimness. There was no denying the puffy rise to his ankle; and now he had a lovely mangled paw, currenty nursed close to his chest, to add to the list. It hadn't occurred to Munkustrap before now why Jyessup had so terribly missed his assault on his neck.

Mistoffelees, Munkustrap knew, was in no shape to be traipsing about on the streets; with his cuts exposed and bloody he'd sooner catch his death in hypothermia than the inevitable infection that would gladly pick up where freezing left off. Maybe it would have been worth fighting for the silly box after all. With all their options gone, Munkustrap was at a complete loss.

Despondent, he fell to his knees and pulled the tux tight in his arms, burying his face in Mistoffelees' neck and licking the small cut Jyessup left there. He let the tiny tom caress his fur and murmur soft apologies into his chest, this time making no protest when the cold tips of fingers pressed against the angry tears that diced his skin. It hadn't taken more than a few minutes for the cold to permeate his coat and make his muscles crawl.

It seemed Mistoffelees hadn't bothered with the shivering this time around, instead he leaned slack against Munkustrap and let the cold have its way with him. The hollow voice he managed to croak came so light, it was almost missed; "I want to go home."

"Me t-too, Misto," Munkustrap said. It only then occurred to him that he actually could take Mistoffelees home! "...I know w-where we c-can go."

With renewed energy Munkustrap dug up the strength to arrange the tux on his back, front paws dangling over his shoulders and head pillowed in the curve of his neck. The fur on his neck quivered and raised at the feel of Mistoffelees' jagged breaths, which were growing alarmingly cool and shallow.

Four leadened paws trotted down the crusted, snowy sidewalk, steering the tabby back over familiar trail. He skidded to a stop in front of the lamppost they'd passed earlier, one with two street signs half-covered with snow. To the left was Tugger's place and Mistoffelees' almost certain death, to the right was their only other option.

Barely a couple houses away and Mistoffelees had become deadweight on his back, not to mention cold and rigid against his shoulder blades as he walked. Munkustrap sent a quick prayer to the Everlasting Cat and closed the last stretch of street between them and the dark house in his crosshairs.

It had been a while since Munkustrap last visited so he hoped for the best when he gently pushed his head through the doggy door to make a quick inspection of the place. "H-hello?" he tried.

From there he could see straight into what was commonly referred to as the living room (though he wondered what the use of a _living_ room would be if there wasn't an alternative 'dead room') and saw the faint glow of the furniture in the orange light of what was undoubtedly a great fire.

From atop an ottoman, a solid mass of fur with legs rose from his perch and stumbled to the ground, luckily landing on all fours. The thing crept over as fast as it could- which was horrendously slow- and Munkustrap wasted no time in jumping back out the doggy door to stuff Mistoffelees rigid body through the hatch.

Much to his sheer amazement, Mistoffelees' body as a semi-frozen sack of dead-weight was unbelievably heavy; to lift him up and through the door was a challenge even for Munkustrap. The tux snagged the plastic frame halfway through, leaving his upperhalf to dangle over the muddy welcome mat with Munkustrap pushing the other half in after him. "Help-p me!" he cried.

A moment later Mistoffelees' body jerked and slid through the hatch, and Munkustrap gladly jumped in after him. His assistant looked between him and the unconscious tux in his arms from the dry linoleum floor. "Everlasting, Munkustrap, what are you doing!?"

Drained, the tabby fell to his knees and gasped the salty-sour stench of the dried snow and of the grimy winter shoes that were lined up dutifully by the door. "Isn't it obvious?" he said. "We've come to visit you, Dad."

* * *

Together they dragged the magician to the fireplace, Munkustrap filling in the aged tom on... _necessary _details, and hoped they'd been fast enough to revive Mistoffelees. Perhaps Deuteronomy sensed there was more to the story than Munkustrap and Mistoffelees getting caught in the cold on their way back from a noble search for Macavity's lair, but if he did he hadn't shown it.

They spent a good few minutes in silence to watch for any signs of improvement. As more time passed without change Deuteronomy grew even more worried. Munkustrap simply watched from his spot in front of the fire, rubbing the chill from his fur and thoroughly roasting himself while he waited.

"...You should fetch my basket and some blankets for you two to sleep in," Deuteronomy whispered and looked the tux over for the eleventeenth time that minute. "He's not going to get any better because we're watching him. And I'm sure you're tired."

Hesitant as he was to leave, the suggestion actually wasn't a suggestion but a rather kind order. Not wanting to be rude as he was still a guest, he obliged and set out to gather his father's worn wicker basket and some blankets from the linen closet.

For an elderly couple with no children to keep, Deuteronomy's humans sure had a lot of blankets. Just as well, Munkustrap had a healthy selection to pick through. It was easy enough to find one for Mistoffelees, a thick quilt in various shades of yellow, but he just couldn't seem to settle on one for himself. Half the linens had been tossed about the hallway by the time he'd found one he could tolerate, but even then he wasn't happy: the fabric was too clingy for his fur and the colour was perfectly hideous and- Everlasting could nothing go right tonight?!

The blanket shot out of his paws and hit the wall with a soft _thud._ Soon every linen within reach was having its turn at abusing the ugly floral-papered wall, some even bouncing back for a second assault.

He was angry. He was angry, upset, desperate, and hopelessly tired all in one mess of a tabby. Normally most toms would curse the 'cruel hand of Fate' that betrayed them in a time of need while others might sob until they've lost interest and carried on with their day; Munkustrap, because he had a knack for blaming himself, preferred to wallow in self-pity.

When Old Deuteronomy would come looking for him later, he'd find Munkustrap doubled over in a battlefield of cloth and embroidery, rocking softly and clutching to his chest the faintly moistened quilt of soft and cheery yellows.

* * *

Defrosting, Mistoffelees decided, was much worse than freezing; in the sense that being revived felt more like dying than dying did! But when you're being brought back from the dead it's rather ungrateful to complain about the discomfort of living. Actually, the only way he knew he was still kicking was because it hurt.

"Open your eyes," someone had told him, and he did. Though he wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting to find, he knew it certainly wasn't Old Deuteronomy. The old patriarch smiled and gently patted his shoulder. "How do you feel?"

Confused, he definitely felt confused... perhaps even a bit stunned. Blinking dully up at what he assumed to be his host (because it was quite obvious he wasn't outside anymore), he struggled a moment, feeling lost. "Sore... Where's Munkustrap?"

Deuteronomy's grin widened and pushed down on his stiff joints until he was nearly his full height. As old cats tend to do, he stretched out his limbs until something very audibly snapped back into place. Mistoffelees quickly weighed the pros and cons of being able to age; he decided he was happy to, but would most definitely claw his way into the Heavyside layer before letting his bones turn to dust under the mere strain of standing. "Good question. I'll go see."

Not a few moments after disappearing from his side, the sound of paws stormed down from the hall towards him. "Everlasting, you have no idea how great it is to see you," Munkustrap sighed, tossing the cluster of blankets he was holding by the ottoman and sinking to his knees at Mistoffelees' side. "I was sure you froze all the way through."

"Sure felt like it, but I feel much better now."

"That's good- Everlasting, you sure had me worried!"

Mistoffelees had grown restless and overheated by the fire and, despite the others' good-natured reluctance to let him take a break from roasting himself, he managed to convince Deuteronomy they were probably better off with food in their stomachs.

"Right," the old tom had agreed, frowning in concentration. Deuteronomy, Mistoffelees could tell, was rather rusty when it came to caring for someone; after a couple moments of deliberation he saw no harm in eating. "There's some kibble in the kitchen. I'll drag the basket over here so there's a place to sleep."

As expected the kibble was dry and tasteless, having the cardboard texture of 'Formulae for the greying kitty!' that melted to chewy mush the moment it landed on the tongue. Together he and Munkustrap ate in silence, smiling at one another over the bowl whenever one of them pulled a sour face or gagged at the slow, slippery ways of the mush as it creeped down the back of their throat. "I suppose Deuteronomy's days of salmon paste have run up," Mistoffelees said.

"Oh, a long time ago! The vet steered the humans away from adding some to the meals when Tugger and I were still around. He never really got over it." As Munkustrap spoke, Mistoffelees took advantage of the privacy to limp his way around the bowl to nuzzle up against the tabby's arm, weary of the scratches they both sported.

Munkustrap smiled sadly and pressed a moist nose into the small curve of his bloodied shoulder, taking a long breath before planting a kiss there. "You were so cold," he felt the quiet murmur against his neck. "I was so scared you were going to die."

He let the bigger tom snuggle him a minute before wrapping his arms around slumped shoulders. "It's going to take more than some snow to get rid of me," he chortled.

Shifting against his shoulder, Munkustrap gently trailed a paw down his side and leg to press lightly into the swollen fleshy bits of his ankle. "Or a car," he noted with a small smile.

"Hardly. I had help with that one."

"I put the basket behind the wood pile," Deuteronomy wheezed from the other room, giving them enough time to separate before tottering his way into the kitchen. "I figured the humans would wonder if they saw you camped out in the middle of the house. They tend to confuse easily."


	5. Chapter 5

Hey! Guess what, I'm done :D

I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, BIG thanks for Emily-Doreen-Atkinson-xx for her big support and lovely reviews as well.

See you soon!

* * *

Exhausted as he was, Mistoffelees never found sleep. It had been hours since Deuteronomy had 'tucked them in', much to Munkustrap's embarrassment, and a very short while since the tabby himself had begun to snore softly in the basket beside him. He debated whether to bother him for another massage as he was still painfully achy, but he thought it best to let sleeping toms lie.

The yellow quilt tucked around his feet (courtesy of Deuteronomy) made his feet hot and itchy so he kicked them off and sat up to peek out through the gaps in the logs of the wood pile. Back on the ottoman was the old patriarch sleeping away with an unnaturally loud snore, and, behind him, a lightless window with no signs of morning in sight.

Beside him Munkustrap stirred and mumbled in his sleep. Through the wall of the fireplace the last of embers popped under the strain of staying lit, taking with it the last of the light Mistoffelees could see through the logs. All that was left was Deuteronomy's snoring and Everlasting was it deafening.

"What are you doing?" Mistoffelees gasped and, whipping around to face the supposedly sleeping tom, lost his balance and fell arse first over the lip of the basket, his head hitting one the logs with a very loud _thock! _"Everlasting, are you alright? I... I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd do that!"

"Ow." He rubbed his head a moment then held out his arms to be pulled back into the basket. "Just help me up, would you?" Munkustrap obliged and pulled the tux up beside him on the soft cushion and then onto his lap to inspect the growing goose egg.

Mistoffelees frowned at the prodding and waved him away, making the tabby crack a small smile. But then it faded; "Why aren't you sleeping? Is Deuteronomy keeping you awake?" On cue a loud, startled snore ripped loose from the living room; Mistoffelees tittered.

"No, I just can't sleep," he sighed. He too lost his silly grin and slumped heavily against the other's chest. Hands, somewhat unsure, snaked around his waist and gently stroked the fur there. Entwining his fingers in the longer fur over Munkustrap's shoulders, he thrust his head under the curve of his neck. "I can't stop thinking of that queen. Her kittens..."

The hands caressing his sides stopped short to pull him closer. "We don't know for sure-"

"I know. I just wonder."

"Me too."

A moment of silence passed over them and Mistoffelees was soon finding himself in terrible need of a new topic. After fingering the thick strands of black, striped fur for sometime he soon heard the whisper-quiet rippling of purring humming up Munkustrap's throat. It made him smile. "So... you think you're in love with me?"

"Well... yes."

"Only _think_?_" _Mistoffelees jested, jabbing at his chest.

Munkustrap went rigid, the purring stopped and his petting hands froze on the tux's hips. "Is that bad?" With wide eyes he pulled back to stare down at the tom in his arms, swallowing hard. "I just- I didn't want to..."

"Munk, relax!" Mistoffelees couldn't hide the cheeky grin playing his lips for Munkustrap's sudden agitation. He reached up and pinched the point of Munkustrap's chin between his thumb and fingers to tilt it down so he could press his lips against the corner of the flustered grimace. "I'm only teasing," Mistoffelees chuckled and kissed the tabby full on the mouth.

It took quite a bit of kissing and coaxing to but the poor tom at ease; convinced he was truly in the clear, Munkustrap sighed with a frustrated growl, lips curling back into a silly grin when Mistoffelees saucily growled back in turn.

Wasting neither time nor breath the tux took it upon himself to run the tip of his rugged tongue over the upturned lower lip and letting it slip inside to roam and tease the sensitive skin of Munkustrap's mouth.

Minutes passed of sweet kissing and heavy petting before Mistoffelees crawled from Munkustrap's lap to straddle his thighs. From this position the tux indulged his new access to the tender ridges of his partner's jaw, placing tender kisses down the defined bone and finally his mouth to resume their making out.

He found Munkustrap's hands kneading the small of his back, alternating between pressing him even closer and scratching the small curve at the base of his spine. Without breaking the kiss, he took the strong hands and led them around his body to drag them languorously up his chest until...

The kiss broke with an airy gasp of pleasure, trailing off into a high whimper when Munkustrap sifted through the fluffy mat of white fur to roughly run his thumbs over the sensitive nipples there. Mistoffelees punctuated the need in his whine by taking his lover's lower lip between his teeth and kneading the tender lobe; a firm bite when the dexterous fingers pinched at the throbbing skin, making Munkustrap moan loudly and grab with even more enthusiasm.

Anchoring his hands in the silver, striped headfur Mistoffelees dropped his head back with a shaky sigh; letting Munkustrap graze his teeth down his neck and chest, he arched and pressed up into the heat of his mouth when the smooth underside of Munkustrap's tongue replaced the press of his hands.

Rather excited, Mistoffelees leaned back to rest a paw on the tabby's knee to offer more of his chest for fondling but shot back up and shoved hard against Munkustrap's shoulders with a sharp hiss. He tumbled to the blankets beside them to writhe and curse, clutching his foot as he rocked in time to the red hot pain throbbing up his leg.

"Wow!" Munkustrap said, leaning in close. "Your ankle looks really swollen. Let me see." He let the tabby brush away his hands to cup the heel with his own palm. It had doubled in size since they'd last had a good look at it, and the look on the older tom's face as he delicately maneuvered the deformed monstrosity of his joints offered no comfort. This time, when Munkustrap pressed against the swell the tux winced and pulled away. "We should see about elevating this until morning."

"Well, I could always prop it up on your head," Mistoffelees offered, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"You could, but then I wouldn't get much sleep."

"I'm sure the smell will take care of that; you'll sleep fine."

Munkustrap crinkled his nose at that. "I'll pass," he said and turned back to contemplate the foot again. "Here, turn onto your side." Mistoffelees did and was pleasantly surprised when the tabby settled behind him, pressing the length of their bodies close and nuzzling his face into the nape of his neck. Of course, the position made more sense when his calf was brought up to settle in the gentle indent of Munkustrap's waist.

Curious, the tux craned his neck to get a good look at the clever set up. Somehow his contorted leg comfortably rested on a near 80 degree angle with his knee tucked in the small gap between them. Impressive but... "This isn't very exciting."

His back shook with Munkustrap's silent laughter, the fur on his neck rustled with the stutter of warm breath. The lazy smile pressed against the nape of his neck chimed in the gentle, "Not exciting, I suppose, but my father's a light sleeper so it's probably for the best."

Mistoffelees let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess you're right." Already feeling the slow, deep breath of sleep gripping the tabby behind him, he reached back to finger the soft fur behind the bigger tom's ears.

Munkustrap pulled him closer."You only _guess_?" he murmured groggily.

"You only _think_?"

"...No."

* * *

"You sure I'm not too heavy? I've been putting on a bit of weight lately. I can walk fine, you know..." Munkustrap suppressed a sigh and glued his eyes to the semi-snowed-over street signs, making sure he followed the right ones so they could make it back to the junkyard reasonably early. On his back, Mistoffelees shuffled awkwardly and stretched out his bandaged leg. "Yes, I'm much too heavy, put me down."

"You're fine, now help me read these bloody signs. We're supposed to turn soon and I don't want to end up back on the other side of town."

Mistoffelees opened his mouth to protest and got side tracked by what was certainly not the last street sign he'd see today. He leaned forward to squint up at it from behind Munkustrap's head, pushing it out of his way slightly. "B-Brrraa... Hmmm... Brasseur, I think it says- Oh, were we not supposed to turn there?"

"No, that wasn't it."

They walked on for some time in silence- at least until Mistoffelees groaned and slumped his chin between Munkustrap's shoulder blades. "We're moving terribly slow, it's probably best if I-"

"Would you rather I skip?!" Munkustrap cried. "Everlasting, Mistoffelees, you're not heavy! If anything you're too light. Now would you please just let me-"

"Am I bony then?" There really was no use in trying to argue as long as Mistoffelees was on his back. Evidently insecurities have the ability to transcend all reason and flattery. Unfortunately the tux's newfound vanity had run its course on being endearing... two hours ago.

They passed another street and Mistoffelees again put off being insecure for the minute he spent trying to decipher the white lettering through the snow. Of course he knew before the tux even spotted the sign that the street was called Myers. He also knew the next one was Kingsley, and the next Hercule. After that they would turn onto Emily street and walk straight until they reached Gordon's scrapyard- commonly known around the four legged community as the Jellicle Junkyard. But he wouldn't tell Mistoffelees that. "Oh, I can barely make out the first letter!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not it either," Munkustrap pondered, stopping a moment to make a show of 'checking his mental map' before moving on.

The weight on his back shifted again with a strained groan. "At any rate, can we stop sometime soon? I really have to-"

"You've got to be kidding me!" someone hollered behind them. Mistoffelees jerked back to get a better look and immediately perked at what he saw. Stumbling through the snow after them was the Rum Tum Tugger, mane in a complete disarray and face blotched with matted balls of snow. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Alonzo told me you didn't turn up last night and Bastet what did you do to your leg?"

"We got caught in the storm," Munkustrap said. "And Mistoffelees fell and sprained his ankle." The tux himself wiggled the now bandaged limb and sighed exhaustedly, resting a cheek on the back of his head. Tugger's snowy brow slowly crept up into the soppy curl atop his head, but then seemed to remember his dramatic performance as Victim of Worry. Fortunately he was talented enough to pull of both simultaneously.

"Caught in the storm, eh? Looks like you did a fine job at keeping warm... Anything interesti-?"

He'd felt Mistoffelees' mischievous smile growing against his neck, damning Tugger's venturing drawl and bulldozer subtlety. If the agitated sway of the tux's tail against his flank hadn't brought on his own all-telling grin, the loud, dramatic groan had done him in. "Everlasting, Tugger, we made out!"

The Coon gasped, resting a paw on his wild mane. "You barmy clods did _what_?"

"I'll go into disgusting detail later," Mistoffelees promised, scratching the back of Munkustrap's neck coquettishly. "But I really have to relieve myself, and I'm afraid I might break Munk's back if I'm on it long enough."

"Yes, you have time to do that later when I'm not around-"

Munkustrap's eyes went wide. "Tugger!" he sputtered, a thick shade of red bleeding through the lighter grey fur of his coat.

Tugger blinked between them for a moment. "I meant to piss- Fine, _I'm _the one with the dirty mind. Now let's go before all hell breaks loose and Alonzo stages a coup."

Taking the valiant lead back to the Junkyard (because the valiant hero always went first to meet the adoring crowd) Tugger happily trotted ahead, stopping every now and again to rearrange his mane and make sure his damsels were following close behind.

Mistoffelees shuffled again, but this time sliding forward to trail his dangling arm over the muscles of Munksutrap's neck and chest. Snuggling in closer he drew the tip of his tongue up the nape of the tabby's neck, stopping to gently reach up and nibble at the thin skin of a twitchy ear. "You have a problem."


End file.
